


Working On It

by halcyonwhispers



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Boys In Love, Discovery of Love, F/F, F/M, Love takes time, M/M, Mexican American!John, Step-Brother AU, Stepsibling AU, cause yeah, he doesnt know if dave is, hormonal boys, idiots falling in love, john's head over heels, strider sexual, teen drama, that is the question, these boys are stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-07 09:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4258056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyonwhispers/pseuds/halcyonwhispers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New family. New state. New beginnings. You are excited to start your new life with a new mom and siblings, even if some of their quirks are going to take some getting used to (swords, shitload of alcohol, and demonic overlords oh my) but it's always one thing that leaves you with a dry throat and a fluttering heartbeat. </p><p>Dave Strider, known cool kid to most and biggest dork to you, has you thinking since you were 11, 'Oh shit you're really hot and I'm pretty sure I might like you and you're totally making my heart did weird flips and you're my step-brother. Great.' </p><p>So... Yeah. Let's see how this goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eleven

You are about to meet the famous, yet very elusive, Lalonde- Strider offspring; it’s close to your Dad and Roxy's wedding, and thinking on it, it’s pretty weird that you hadn't met half of your new family before then. 

 

But of course you’ve met Roxy prior. Geez, your Dad did have that much common sense in these moments, but see, you haven’t actually met the twins until today; the day before the wedding. 

 

Your soon-to-be mom is coming back from the airport with her kids and your Dad as an escort. Dave and Rose have been in Texas with their own dad, probably enjoying some last minute quality time before the whole thing starts here. 

 

So, as your eyes finally rest on the pair of blondes at the front door, the lopsided grin staining your mouth is expected. There are butterflies crashing into the walls of your stomach but you make sure to keep a cool exterior. 

 

Both your Dad and Roxy appear behind them, carrying bright purple and red suitcases. You vaguely wonder if Roxy had a good flight with her kids. Texas is kinda far away.

 

Your ears only half listen when Dad explains the layout of the house and plan for the next couple of days to the twins. What does trigger your ears was the name you’ve heard before in conversations about a man who loved puppets. "I wished Dirk could've stayed here," he changed topics faster than one could say flipping fedoras. Dirk? As in their dad, Dirk? He came here? For the wedding? You didn’t know that. 

 

Roxy waves him off with a sharp snap of her thin wrist. "You already swooped in on the mother of his children, I'd say let him rent a room. He looks like a lazy slob, but the man does have money to get something nice, honey," she finishes that candid word, kissing your temple sloppily on the way into the kitchen and announces a round of Bloody Marys for everyone. 

 

You weren’t sure then if she’s joking. It’s 8 in the morning! And no way she’s gonna start chugging the day before her wedding! 

 

Dad smiles after his fiancée with that newfound sappy ‘That’s going to be my wife’ smile and claps a warm hand on your shoulder heartily as he trails Roxy. "Help them with the suitcases, son." You nod dumbly, blinking at what just happened. With Dad gone, all of you are alone for the first time ever. 

 

When your Dad finally said Roxy was bringing her kids to Washington, it didn't really hit you until they stood right in front of you right now. It's still kinda surreal. Even though they’re right here. Right by the door. Yeah. You got this, you think, shaking off any buggers in your stomach, you’ve totally got this.

 

They look relaxed from their flight with baggy sweats adorning their slim bodies. 

 

It’s time to make an impression on your new brother and sister. 

 

"Oh my god, hey guys! I'm John Egbert! Uh, James' son!" It seems a pretty smooth introduction to your 11 year old self.  You are too excited to notice just what kind of impression it leaves them.... You might’ve, probably, maybe, given Rose and Dave a reason to raise those eyebrows. But whatever! You are way too energized to really notice such a thing.

 

Rose looks so much like her mother, maybe a shade or two off with those almost purple-looking eyes, but she has the same dainty curve of her mouth and heart-shaped face. The black lipstick stands out to you though. You haven’t met a girl your age who wears lipstick, never mind it black.  "Hello John. I'm Rose, it's nice to meet you," her voice reminds you of velvet, slightly rough but soft as-- well, a rose petal. She steps closer to him, arms lifting apart a little, pretty face taking on a hint of amusement and sincerity. You feel a rush of blood slip into your cheeks at the display, yet nonetheless, you tread forward to hug her back. 

 

It only lasts for a moment, though it’s enough for you to remember that you’re getting a sister. 

 

You turned to Dave, eyes surely wide and shining as you stare at your new brother. 

 

The pointy shades have the same effect on you as Rose's lipstick. They hide most of his pale, unblinking pokerface, revealing only enough to show a light sprinkle of freckles dusted over his fine nose and cheekbones. He and Rose seem to share that great face structure. John wondered if it was a mixture from Roxy and their dad. The white-blonde hair, however, was tones lighter than his sister and mom's, sweeping over his forehead effortlessly stylish, looking like a younger member of those boy bands girls at your school gossip over during break. You can see that Dave probably already had that happening to him. Gossiped over, you mean. With that skin like Snow White and face a lot like a typical Prince Charming, but with the quirky look of those weird sunglasses, the guy is really cute--

 

Er. 

 

Wha... Um. 

 

Now there’s another reason for the blood rising up to your face, licking from your neck, cheeks, and ears. Your hands curl and uncurl at your pants' side, fingers delicately twitching, and eyes shifting from his pretty face to Rose's pretty face. Who looks back at you curiously, black lips still rounding up. Uh, uh, uh.   

 

"H-hi!" you stutter. You totally stutter. Could you get any lamer? Now you have to cover up the thought that you think both of your new step-siblings were really pretty, maybe your brother even more....?? 

 

  1.   _Um........_



 

You feel your heart thundering behind your ribcage, nervous and uneasy to move on from the train wreck his brain is currently traveling through. You leap onto Dave, arms wrapping around his skinny frame, much lankier than Rose's, and giggle, anxiety melting away, at the realization that Dave’s the same height as his twin. A. K. A a half a head shorter than you. But he’s pretty sturdy, maybe from all the fights Roxy says he and his dad do? 

 

"Oohmf," the noise is press from his mouth as you cling to him. "Wow. 'Sup dude. Not dissing on the newborn brotherly bonding moment but I'm like, 95 percent sure you're crushing my lungs. Don't wanna die the day before the big shabang, you know? There's no party without the Strider, can't kill the Strider, man. Don't kill the party when it hasn't even begun yet. That would be a tragedy for the ages. Don't cause one of those. Don't do it." Even with the dramatic light use of his ramble, Dave stays tense under your body and you suddenly become much too aware of this. 

 

Letting go of him with "Hehee, sorry," You still feel the stupid happy grin on your face. 

 

Dave rolls his shoulders in its socket, jokingly telling you that even if you lift logs in your free time, you still need to work on everything else. You retort if  _he_ even knew what working out _was_ with being so skinny. Rose conceals her husky chuckle behind a manicured hand and array of perfect white teeth. It is very much the beginnings of a beautiful step-sibling/friendship occurrences between you and Rose but the start of the budding bromance you and Dave were about to tackle. 

 

See? Everything is okay. No weirdly homosexual thoughts in this brain. Nope. None at all. No....

 

So the next day, their parents get married. Roxy is glowing in her dress of blending, exploding colors. Dad can't keep his eyes off her when she walks down the aisle. Rose is smiling a little too hard in a plum designer maid of honor gown, hissing about paying for a bottle of old wine for their honeymoon. You and Dave stand next to Dad, acting as best man and groomsmen, occasionally getting each other to fall victim to fits of snorts and giggles (you) over extremely lame jokes (Dave). 

 

It isn't until the reception that he got to met Dirk, a tall man with blonde and spiky hair, just as carelessly fashionable as his son. He not only wears the same sunglasses as Dave, but also has the same habit of only moving a single muscle in his face. Oddly enough, it’s the eyebrow thing Rose and Dave did when you met them. 

 

Dirk likes you, calling you a, "Kawaii shota." Whatever that means, it has both the Lalonde- Strider kids snickering and Roxy beating him with a limping bouquet of pinks and blues. 

 

But even as they laugh at something you’re not really sure about, you think that Dave’s laugh is really... nice. The sound of it relaxes your muscles for whatever reason. Just as you’re about to inwardly claim it as the best thing ever; you remember his mom just married your Dad. Making him you’re brother. And that’s he’s a boy. Boy. Just like you are.

 

You’re not sure how you feel about the disappoint gathering in your gut and try to move on to where Dad is offering Rose and Dirk the cake he made for the reception.

 

You are still a bit surprised that he came. Dad was usually a tradition kinda guy but you guess that meeting Roxy had a chilling effect on him. Oh, what were you saying!? Of course it did! The man at last calmed down on all the sweets, reducing his obsessive baking tick to five days outta the whole week. That plus the amount of alcohal infused pastries Dad has made on meeting her, you don’t have to worry about him shoving a cake under your nose at every hour of the day. Now it’s just half the time. It’s mind blowing how she did that to him. 

 

The party rages on into the night. You dance with Roxy as neon lights sprout across the floor, Dad takes Rose’s hand and twirls her around to the beat of the music and to your shock, Dad offers Dave a dance after his turn with Roxy. Then in another weird twist, Dave smirks and accepts.

 

What even is life right now?

 

You sit at a table watching your Dad and your brot—eh, Dave (feels more natural) do the Chicken Dance surrounded by some other of party go-ers. Off to your left, you spy Rose passing Roxy a small rectangular and oh boy those are some big diamonds. You didn’t even know they could fit those things that size on necklaces like that. How did Rose afford that?  Roxy laugh is slurred by the numerous drinks she’s had, it’s something you can tell from here, and see her shake a finger at her daughter. You think you can see her mouth saying, “Nicely done” or maybe it was “Wanna pack some gum?” Hmm...

 

Your hands move to unbutton the sleeves of your white dress shirt. You’re not entirely sure where you left the jacket...but it has to be somewhere! Oh you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.

 

“I think that’s some passive-aggressive warfare shit.”  You look up, blinking to see Dave standing before you, hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants. Unlike your loosened tie around your neck, his is gone all together.

 

You stare at him for a moment, blank. What was he talking about?

 

He pulls a seat next to you. Nodding to your left, he continues with, “Yeah. Mother and sister dearest there have that weird psychological thing going on. So if they ever leave you a freakin’ autograph from one of those B-rate actors from those equally shitty movie posters in your room, you’ll know you’re in deep shit.”

 

You note as he talks, he still has the shades on. It’s dark in here though. But as soon as he remarks on the glorious actors from your golden movies, you forget the thought and charge in to defend what the amazing men and women of Hollywood cannot do.

 

After a while (turns out to be an hour) of talking and poking fun at each other, you stand up, hand reaching for him, and say seriously, “No more games dude. We need to settle the build up of testosterone and handle this like men: Dance Battle.” He about to protest, you know he is, brows already arching over the shades when you drag him onto the dance floor.

 

Yet just as you’re about to beat his skinny butt down, the upbeat dub-step music slows and all of the sudden, it’s some slow-dance. Couples are already latching onto each other and starting to sway. A little ways off, Dad and Roxy are holding each other, their heads bowed together as they whisper. You stand there awkwardly (well more than the norm), restarting to think of how this was _suppose_ to turn out when the shiny glimpse of white-blonde hair steals your gaze.

 

Dave is standing right in front of you, and is that a blush? Oh no, no it isn’t. The red light just passed by. Man this is very awkward. You’re about to laugh this whole mess off and offer to go back to the table, head reeling, when he holds out his hand.

 

“Ugh?” You are sure someone has taken your intestines and wrung them out. 

 

“Come on, Egbert. You ask out a lady to dance and expect to leave her hanging at the dance floor. Don’t be that guy, John.”

 

You are very caught up on that. Since, you know, that was the first time he said your name. You met the guy last night; you think he would’ve said it before but no. Until now. And it makes you feel like the time you ate too many cupcakes.

 

But you also realize he’s making this ok. Nothing weird about two new step-brothers dancing as a joke at their parents wedding. Hahaha nope!

 

“Well thank you madame. I’ll lead,” you state at once.

 

“Why would you lead? You’re like an overgrown baby chick.”

 

“I’m taller and the taller one always leads.”

 

“Yeah whatever, man. If you mess up, I’m leading.”

 

 Your hands are sweaty because of the heat in the room, you reason to think, as you put your hands where you think his waist would be. His slip up and around your shoulders and neck. You’re dancing. You keep looking down at your feet, trying (and failing) not to step on his feet. At stepping on his glossy dress shoes for the hundredth time, Dave unexpectedly stops, bringing you almost to the floor and crushing into Rose and Dirk. They give the two of you an unreadable look before dancing away.

 

What was that? Why did Dave stop? Did he get annoyed? Will he not want to talk to you anymore?

 

“Blew your chance Egderp.” Egderp? That was original. You tell him this and he moves back and comes closer in a fluid movement, his hands move to where you were on him. “I’m leading ‘cause you really suck at dancing.” You’re acutely aware of where his hand rests on your sides. You move your hands to lightly put them on his shoulder and the position is a little weird ‘cause of the height difference but.... You swallow. “Like seriously dude, you’re worse than Mom over there and she’s been drinking since last night.” Well, you guys are certainly moving a lot better than when you were leading. You give him that. You move you head a bit to look down at him.

 

“Where did you learn to dance? My Dad would take me to an instructor to learn but I was never really good. I got two left feet.”

 

“No shit.”

 

“But Dave, it is the honest shit.”

 

Dave smiles and it’s even better than when he laughed. The freckles on his cheeks and nose shift with the movement and you mirror the gesture on your face. The lights bouncing around make his skin look twice as pale and not in a bad way. It really nice and at a glance to your hands by his neck, you can really see the difference between the skin colors. You’re way tanner than him. Partly from genetics and partly cause of all the playing you do outside. But as you feel your blue eyes widen along with your smile, his disappears, leaving you with something that looked like a mask.

 

“I strife sometimes with Bro. You gotta be agile and nimble as a freakin’ ninja for those things. Gotta be quick or else you’d get a throwing star in the eye. Or a sword in your back when you’re not being careful cause you notice that the puppets are suddenly lined up behind you and you’re all like ‘What the hell man? I didn’t know this was a peep show. I would’ve tried harder not to be bleeding all over the floor like this. I’m really fucking blushing scarlet now and I’m totally not going to get into that but I’m in shock right now Egbert. You haven’t said to shut my yapper yet.”

 

“You call your dad Bro?” is the first thing out of your mouth because—Dang. That was a lot to take in.

 

“Yeah. He’s not dad. That’s weird as Pope marrying gays. He’s Bro. You know?”

 

Not really but you nod anyways. “The fighting thing is really cool,” you try instead. “Do you fight with real swords and stuff?”

 

He nods, looking he’s fighting a tiny smile. “Of course.” There definitely some arrogance there but hey, if you could kick ass too, you’d be thinking you got bragging rights too.

 

“Think I could come and see sometimes?” You sound excited but you don’t really care at this point. Dave frowns, as if remembering something, however when you blink, it’s a smirk.

 

“We’ll have to talk to Dadbert to see what he wants his princess to be seein’.” You were about to start snapping at the term princess and whine what was it with him and your last name but the words still on your tongue as the two of you stop moving to the music. “Okay, I think we’re at the limits of how long two newly acquainted bros can dance at the ‘rents wedding, ironically of course.” His hands release you and... you feel oddly...cold.

 

Again, there’s that disappointment digging into your bones but you blow it off.

 

_Pachooooo._

 

There it goes. Live free and prosper. Or do die in a ditch. Either or.

 

That’s about the time Rose wonders over and soon, the three of you are back at the table from before, each sneaking sips of the wine Rose had, quote, _found_ , end quote.

 

She’s the only one who isn’t a giggling fool by the bottom of the bottle. Ok, neither is Dave but he keeps coming in for a fist dump, pokerface on, and calling you his bromie. His bro-in-arms. His brojob. His amigo. Brolet...

 

You only remember laughing and hugging the two of them to you for the rest of the night.

 

So the big day is soon over and just as Dad and... Mom Roxy (she insisted, you couldn't resist the trembling bottom lip, you totally understand now, Dad) speed off to the airport on a trip to England. You stay back with Dave and Rose at your house, your cousins keeping an eye on them. 

 

Those three weeks mostly consist of Jane helping you initiate Dave and Rose to the Egbert clan with a cake to the face, Dirk popping up "randomly" at the same time as Grandpa Jake's morning workouts routines in the backyard, and more goofing off with Rose, Dave, and Jade around the neighbourhood. 

 

Then Dad and Mom Roxy came back. Dad already starts on a plan to move to Texas since that is where Dave and Rose are use too, although they both look indifferent about the whole thing... Your cousins leave. Jane daring to leave monstrous, freshly baked Betty Crocker brownies on your nightstand. You swear Grandpa and Dirk swap numbers, resulting in Dave to break a firm nonchalant view on his father by almost coughing up a cow when you tell him. Though Rose only smiles, writing something down in her little black book of secrets (you like to pretend it was that instead of a diary). In the end, Jade's leaving left connection between the squad and a blissful tremor in your heart. 

 

It stays kinda great for the next 6 years. 

 

Your fall into the endless, black void known as love on the other hand, leaves a couple of horrorstuck chapters to talk about though.


	2. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your beautiful stepsibling/friendship relationship with Rose is moving along nicely, and your budding bromance with Dave has grown into the picturesque form of broamity and yet, something in you wonders if one day, something more can happen... BUT ITS NOT LIKE THAT. NOT AT ALL! ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS AIHFOOUAGLAYVgghjnrtunysnB;

You are now John Egbert, and even though it has been 12 years ago that you have been given life, it has been only a year since your small family of two has grown to the grand total of five. Throw yourself a party; have you felt any familiar love yet between your new brood?

 

Actually, yes. Thank you so much for asking.

 

Dad is Dad. Same organized man with a thing for clowns, all things fatherly, and Betty Crocker. It’s the same baked goods, expect there’s more of the stuff lying about, believe or not. Your stepmother has done nothing but everything she would to her own children. Which consists of being handed a drink and clicking glasses together before Dad takes it from your hand, wet kisses on the cheek before bed, and licking a napkin and smearing it on anything staining your face, leaving the faint smell of strawberry tequila behind.

 

Your beautiful stepsibling/friendship relationship with Rose is moving along nicely, and your budding bromance with Dave has grown into the picturesque form of broamity and yet... BUT of course you wouldn’t be thinking anything like _that_! No homo man! Or weird step-sibling incest...

 

Yeah so...

 

Your brood has been doing perfectly in all of this time! Expect the wasps swarming your stomach and sweaty palms you get when you get on thinking too much about this weird thing your feelings have around Dave, everything has been perfect!

 

You nod to yourself, chuckles slipping into choked coughs as you go over all of this pretty useless information for about the second time since waking up.

 

“Are you alright Jonathon? This is the third time I’ve called you and usually by now you would have turned to me and awkwardly answered me.” Ok so maybe you check out of your head every now and then but yikes. If Rose has actually sounded a tiny bit concerned over her doctor-lady voice, you really need to stop thinking about...your family. You were totally going to say family.

 

 

Rose’s sitting on the loveseat to your left, legs kicked up and tucked under her personally knitted blanket even though it’s only a nice 72 degrees inside the house. Her lips are a dark shade of orange today to go with the lovely autumn festivities outside. Or. At least you think that’s why. Rose is a little odd like that.

 

 Dave sits on the floor, back resting on the couch you are currently sitting at, about a foot away from your spot. His shades are firmly perched on his nose even though the living room is dark as can be and the only lights are the ones from the TV and tiny bit streaming in through the windows. You can tell he’s listening by the way his head turned a smidge to the side. It’s so weird how often you get all nervous and twitchy around your best bro.

 

The bro-liness rolling off the two of you is really intense is all you gotta say about it.

 

“Augh, Rose. How many times do you have to torture me by using that name?” You skirt around the question by asking another. Haha! Take that Rose! You slump further into the sofa and rotate your head to glance at her. You know she’s teasing but it did startle you outta your deep dark personal thoughts.

 

Her violet eyes narrow and she knows you’re avoiding the question oh geez she’s going to start watching you closely these next couple of who knows how long she looks into someone’s soul after they catch her attention--

 

“I don’t see how that is a problem since it is your given name... Jonathon.” Oh wow. She let you off the hook. Hee. Maybe you were worrying for nothing.

 

“I know, I know, but eh. John is so much more _me_. I think. Would you want me to call you Rosaline?” You say the name with a bit of your Latino tongue, rolling the R and pronouncing the ‘line’ as ‘lean-a’. Man, learning Spanish first has never failed you for your heaps of playful teasing with friends, and now, family.

 

Instead of getting a snort or eye roll, Rose responds by tilting her head, another wave of interest slipping over her eyes.

 

“Wow. Check out Egbert, all smooth and saucy with that Eg-pert pristine. Did you try or did that just happen?” Dave jumps in. His arm goes to rest on the couch seat and moves his head to look at you through his pointy sunglasses.  

 

Now it’s you rolling the eyes, though you can’t help passing them both a laugh because how hard Dave is trying to look indifferent and Rose’s curiosity written all over her expression.

 

“I’m pretty sure I’m Mexican, Mexican-American for sure. I was down here. But like my birth parents are- were- or maybe I might be half...”

 

“’Pretty sure’? ‘Maybe’? Hot damn Egbert. I know you’re clueless but isn’t not knowing what you are goin’ overboard?”

 

“Haha Dave, that was so funny I am peeing myself over how hilarious that was. Ha.”

 

“I was stuck on ‘birth parents’.” She makes an odd face, one part studious, one part a little hurt maybe? Oh. Welp. No. Not anymore. She just looks interested now. You must’ve imagined that. “Either way, we didn’t know that about you John. I understand your possible want to keep your racial status to yourself, so thanks for sharing.” Rose’s voice makes you look back at her and it suddenly hits you that they honestly didn’t know.

 

Your eyes shift from the show on TV (something about wedding dresses. Dave watched to watch it for “ironic” purposes) and back to them. “Um. Yeah. I wouldn’t know 100% ‘cause I was adopted. It was a closed adoption so Dad didn’t really know loads before taking me home with him. He got me from this orphanage in this Mexican community in California, and figured I’d want to have some of my roots so he taught me Spanis-”

 

“You’re adopted?” Your best friend deadpans and you aren’t really sure if it was a question or not. A glance at Rose says that all of this is soaking into her brain to add to the resume you’re pretty sure she makes for all the people she meets.

 

“I believe that’s what he just said, Dave.”

 

Dave moves his head to look at his twin’s smirk, a nice reflection of the one he does if anyone asks you, but you can feel the argument about to break out. They never amount to anything serious so you let it play out most of time but... You kind of don’t feel like playing peace-keeper. Especially on something as stupid and simple as you being adopted.

 

“Yeah yeah. I’m adopted. Didn’t you guys ever wonder why my dad and me don’t look alike? Like at all?”

 

They seem to quiet down for a moment, probably thinking about your Dad’s pale skin, greying dark brown hair, and gray eyes. Your facial similarities with him are pretty blunt with his sharp cheeks bones, slight arch in his big nose, and wide forehead. You’re pretty much the opposite on all of that.

 

And of course. The teeth. As far as you, Dad has always had near perfect choppers, _way_ unlike you. Plus, your vision has always been crappy too. But if that comes from your heritage or amount of sitting too close to the TV, who knows.

 

“Excuse us for thinking that your mom could’ve lent a hand in the gene pool, Egbert.” You notice Dave shifting his position back to the TV, away from the conversation, with extra bored in his tone.

 

Rose is silent when you look at her, and with a quick glance back at Dave, she meets your eyes and mouths ‘He’s a pouting child.’ She nods seriously and fakes a sad look as if he was announced with a curable disease. You throw up your hand to trap the loud laugh from drowning the room and ball yourself up to hide some of the giggles. Dave? Pouting? Mr. Coolkid?  Believable but right now? Over what?

 

Over the last year, you’ve discovered that Dave “The Self Proclaimed Shit” Lalonde-Strider is anything but Mr. Coolkid, with his loser white-boy raps and twice as loser webcomic. You used to think the swords were cool but then you would find all sorts of metal weaponry scattered around in seemingly most innocent and non-weapon-y places to put them in. Come on. The fridge?  Really?

 

Ok you still think the swords are sweet. The one strife Dave and Dad let you see was totally awesome too, if only it hadn’t ended so soon. Ha. Dave got his ass handed to him. Nice.

 

You stare at the side of his face, thinking. But... you just can’t see a reason why Dave would sulk like a baby? What did you say? You only told them you were adopted. Ohhh... Was he hurt that you never told him?

 

You stare at the side of his face, trying to decide but all you can take in is the shape of his mouth and curve of his nos—

 

“Yo John. Are you going to stare at my pretty face all day or are you going to make a move and ask me out on for a stroll in the park with all the butterflies fluttering around and dogs pissing on my new stilettos?” His abrupt voice rips through the silence and makes you jump.

 

You pull a face at him through your blush, even though you’re not sure if he can see you. “Stilettos on the first date? Seems pretty desperate, Dave.” Cue Rose laughing. “Plus I’m sorry to say, but I do not think of you that way. Cause you know, you’re like my step-brother and that would totally be weird like way beyond weird, you know?” You start to ramble, tugging on the black rat’s nest that is your hair.

 

“Like wow Dave. You should cool it with that stuff ‘cause it’s nice you think I’m so good-looking,” Oh. My. God. _Stop talking John!_ “B-but,” Now you’re _stuttering?!_ You are now all too aware of Dave’s hidden gaze straight up watching you, face pointing in your direction, his purposely devoid of any emotion.

 

You hate it when he does that! You never know if what you’re saying is wrong or right. _Not_. That you’re trying to impress him like _impress_ him. Like no. You want to be on good terms with your best bro, that’s all.

 

Seriously. That’s all.

 

Luck for you that is the exact moment Dad and Mom Roxy chose to jump in. They come back from the movies, both dressed with in light jackets and denim jeans. Yeah. Dad. In jeans. _Jeans_.

 

If you hadn’t seen him before he left, you would’ve been in a lot more dismay than how you are right now.

 

“Children,” Dad says, taking Mom Roxy’s jacket to put in the small closet next to the entryway. “Bedtime now. Even though it is the start of the weekend, John, Dave you two especially need some rest. Your little friend is coming over tomorrow to work on math, correct?”

 

“Yeah and yes, Dad,” you reply and move off the couch to stretch. Your Dad continues on to tell you that a good night’s rest is the key to succeeding in a project of any kind and blah. Oh man, all of your muscles feel sore from sitting on the couch for too long. You nod absentmindedly at him and pull your arms over your head, lifting the bottom on your shirt to reveal some of your stomach.

 

For a moment, you get the strangest feeling that someone’s looking at you, but as you peer around the room, Rose is folding her blanket, Roxy is making something in the kitchen, Dave is still staring at the TV (you think, those glasses man) and Dad is arm-deep in the closet, talking and trying to organize the mess you and Dave made there yesterday.

 

“Goodnight Mother, James.” Rose says, with a smile.

 

Mom Roxy calls out a “Goodnight, sugar princess!” while Dad bids her a goodnight and turns to face you. You nod again. Dad smiles, eyes moving to where Dave is still unmoving at his spot.

 

“David, enough TV for today. I’ll make some apple pie for tomorrow.” Dave _mhmm_ s and gets up at last.

 

“Heard you the first time, James. Even if it’s wrong. Karkles is more of an...” He waves a hand around, searching for a word. “Eh. Don’t even know what to call him. Thanks for the pie though, old man.” Dave doesn’t exactly look thankful, lips curled up in half a smirk.

 

Dad looks like he’s about to lecture, so you act fast and wish Dad and Mom Roxy goodnight, pushing Dave from behind, and follow Rose to the bedrooms.

 

It’s only when all of you are out of sight, do your hands slip from his shoulders. “Welp, I’m off to rot my brain more with TV. Bye.” He goes and disappears into his room across the hall and you make a mental note to go talk to him before hitting the sack.

 

 Rose stands in front of her opened door. You can see the plum color walls, clothes sprung about, and several candles on top of her bookshelves from your spot. There’s a poster depicting some kind of... tentacle monster on the wall. That’s... very creepy.

 

She sees you staring at it and smiles secretly and the light from her lamp makes her purple eyes almost glow, like she defiantly knows something you don’t. Again, you look at the poster and you swear the black arms of the monster move. Your heart beats a little faster. Ok um. “’Night Rose—Argh!” You yelp, something soft and quick darting across your legs, rushing towards Rose.

 

She glances down and her smile softens before picking up the cat. “There you are Jaspers.” The black cat purrs and licks her face, nuzzling her neck.

 

“Goodnight John. Wish the horrors away tonight.” The last thing you see is her eyes almost scorching and the form of that monster before the door closes on it.

_Oh my God. Is Rose in a cult?_

You swallow down the ball of spit in your throat and shake your head.

 

You can hear the TV on from Dave’s room, and you’re about to knock on it, you really are, but you pause, fist right above the wooden door.

 

For some reason, your heartbeat picks up again at the thought of doing it even though it’s really stupid. You’ve knocked on his door before. All the time. But right now you’re mouth feels dry and there’s the feeling like someone is sitting on your chest.

 

Is he...sitting on the bed? In front of his computer? Leaning on the window?

 

Why are you thinking so hard on this?

 

Inside the room, there’s the voice of that crude TV show’s host. There’s a lot of bleeping from the curse words being blocked.

 

Saving yourself the pain, you lower your hand and move away, towards the last bedroom in the hall, and hope you can sleep feeling this sick.

 

 

_+_

 

 

“For fuck’s _fucking_ sake, John. This problem is the easiest one outta the whole bunch. Just stop whining and fucking _do_ it.”

 

“Geez, I’m sorry Karkat! It’s just... Why is x equal to 4?” When you decided on talking Pre-Algebra, you thought the letters with numbers was a nice twist on the whole thing but now....

 

Papers scatter across the coffee-table in your living room, you sit cross legged on one side of it, while a very annoyed Karkat Vantas sits opposite to you, yelling and occasionally stabbing his pencil in your direction when you ask “stupid questions” or just when you talk for too long.

 

Back at your old school, you always seemed to have a problem with getting people to like you. You can’t think of a reason to this, only that no one bullied you per say. It was more like they just kept their distance from you and let you sit at the table as long as you didn’t open your mouth for a while.

 

Here, in the suburbs of Houston, Texas however, it was easy to get to talking and have people laugh at all of your amazing jokes. Don’t even let you get started on the number of new friend’s you’ve pranked so far.

 

Like Karkat here. The o’fart noise when sitting. Classical gold. 

 

You thought he was going to beat you up (despite your towering structure on him, he had the anger for sure) he only called you a couple names before stomping away. And before you knew it, the two of you became friends! Karkat is actually a really swell guy. The ginger probably needs to take some anger management classes and some more naps, but he’s nice.

 

You move your eyes to his freckles. There much darker than Dave’s and are splattered more around his face in thicker groups. It’s like a bandit mask of those little skin stars for him. You kinda like them, however. You know it would be really weird to see him (or Dave) without them.

 

“—that why it’s 4.”

 

“Oh...” You weren’t paying attention again.

 

“You weren’t paying attention again, WERE YOU?!” His voice jumps from a 4 to a solid 1000 and you jump along with it backwards.

 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

 

Karkat tosses up his papers, causing a makeshift snowfall of equations and problems. “I’m done. Just done. You’re worse than fucking _Gamzee_ and he has ADD or some shit.”

 

“Your freckles are so hypnotizing, Karkat, that’s why.”

 

He stutters at that and you watch as his voice gets more screechy and strangled. His eyes look anywhere but you as red attacks his neck and face.  “F-forget it asswipe! Unless you’re willing to pay some damn attention to this, _we aren’t getting fucking anywhere_.”

 

“You know Karkat, we are very lucky that my Dad isn’t here or he would’ve made you put at _least_ a couple dozen of quarters in the swear jar. Dave’s always having too.”

 

“Strider can just--”

 

“What about me?” Both of you look and see Dave coming out of Rose’s room, a rolled up paper in hand and juice box in another. He’s dressing extra lazy today. White shirt, plaid red and black pyjama pants even though it’s already 5 in the afternoon.

 

It’s a complete contrast to your blue jeans and blue button up. Even Karkat is dressed more accordingly for the time of day in dark jeans and black T-shirt.

 

Karkat sits back and sneers at him, “Wasn’t talking to _you_ , Strider. I was talking to John.”

 

You always wondered why Karkat called Dave Strider, and not Lalonde-Strider, but the one time you asked, Karkat rolled his eyes, saying a douche needs a douche name.

 

Okay then.

 

The blonde smirks around the juice box, draining it and tossing the empty box to the couch. Dave laughs and hands you the paper. As you open it, he plops down next to you, legs out stretched before him.

 

It’s the homework paper you were working on, but unlike yours, his is all filled in with his chicken-scratch handwriting. But you’ve read it enough times to only ask every other sentence what a word was.

 

“Where did you get all the answers?” Just as you ask, Karkat reaches across the table, snagging it from you, and starts to look over it.

 

He makes an irate sound and his head snaps up, brown eyes a blazing. _“Where the hell did you get this?”_

 

“Kanaynay.”

 

_Oh_ , you think. So that’s what Rose and her are doing. You noticed that neither one has come out of Rose’s room since Kanaya came an hour earlier. 

 

“Cheating isn’t going to help him, you piece of shit.” Karkat hisses bluntly, stubby fingers gripping the paper in a tight grip.

 

Dave is all frowns now. “He wasn’t getting any help with you bitching and moaning about every little thing, Karkles.” There’s the eyebrow.

 

“Oh go to hell and fuck off! I know you only hang out with her to piss me off, Strider!”

 

“Just ‘cause she didn’t want to deal with your baggage doesn’t mean you can take it out on the rest of us innocent saplings. _Karkles_.”

 

“ARGH! I’m _not_ taking about her! And I’m not here to yell at him! You’re the one who can’t handle me being around him! Stop acting so fucking idiotic! Oh wait! You can’t because idiot is all you run on!” Karkat’s black eyes narrow into slit and his checks turn pink, highlighting the dark array of freckles tossed over them. You get a really bad feeling in your gut, knowing this will not end well at all.

 

You watch, biting your lip, as you see Dave’s hands curling into fists on the floor. His face may say he couldn’t care less, but he’s getting riled up about this.  Are they talking about you?  Oh dang. Your best bro and your second closet friend are fighting about who you love more. You think that’s what’s happening anyways...

 

You panic. What do you do, what do you do, what do you do to calm things down?

 

Think, what would Rose do? Talk about the problem maybe? But they’re not going to spill their feels right now. Roxy would offer a drink and that may cause bigger problems. Dad would offer—

 

You twist your eyes to the kitchen where he took out the pie to cool off. You’re groaning at the thought of even cutting it (the man used Betty Crocker pie crust. Pie crust!) but you’re not stupid. Your Dad’s sugary desserts have a good effect on most people... Why you? But the argument tells you what you must do.

 

_Time to take one for the team, John._

“Who wants pie?! Oh my gosh, Karkat, you are going to love this gag worthy- I mean, tasty pie. Dad made it for us, you know. I’ll be right back with a piece of it for each of you!” You quickly pounce to your feet, almost falling over. “No fighting!” you call, shuffling off to the kitchen. Karkat crosses his arms and answers with a “Whatever” while Dave sits back and scoffs.

 

You hold your nose as you cut the thing and put a slice on each plate.

 

No one’s yelling loud enough to hear, so that’s a good sign. You can hear mumbles but nothing else.

 

You wipe your hands on your shirt, wrinkling your nose, and running your fingers through your raven hair.

 

The tangles aren’t bad today and you think about Dave’s blonde hair. You could never get your hair to look that perfect, too many cowlicks making your head look like you simply woke up and went about your day. Which is actually what you do but whatever.

 

Then you wonder if Dave’s hair is as soft as it looks.

 

Then you wonder where all of this is coming from and rush back into the living room, elevated heartbeat and all, and almost crash into Karkat.  

 

If you thought his face was face was red before, it’s like someone lit a match under his skin now. His things are all gathered in his hands. “Wh- Hey, where you going? The pi--” Karkat takes one look up at you, his eyes changing from slits to saucers in one blink. His fury melts away in a minute as he stares at you, mouth open.

 

“Bet you five bucks that no matter how long you stare at him, shits gonna happen, Karkles,” Dave shouts from the table.

 

All the disgust floods back into the short boy’s face. He whips around to give Dave the finger.

 

“I’m so hurt. Egbert, get a doctor for this burn he just threw at me. I may not live to see tomorrow.” 

 

You open your mouth, to either tell Dave to shut up or to ask Karkat what happened, but Karkat moves again, going around you, not shoving you out of the way, and delicately trying not to meet your eyes.

 

You hear him mutter under his breath so lowly; you’re amazed you hear it. “You shouldn’t be talking, you piece of horse fuck...” And he’s out the door, leaving you standing there, confused as ever, holding pie.

 

You’re so caught up in what happen, you don’t notice Dave walking next to you. He scares you by taking one of the plates. “Dadbert sure knows how to make these things.”

 

“What- what did you say? I’ve never seen him so... like that before. Dave, Ididn’t touch this monster for giggles! It was supposed to help!” You feel very confused and very pissed at him for ripping on Karkat like that.

 

Dave shrugs, taking the fork off the plate to take a slip of pie. “I just told him the truth. Not my fault he can’t handle his feelings.”  The golden hunk of pie moves to his mouth and he chews.

 

“So… We finished the homework. Wanna watch a movie? We can see that godawful Con Air shit for the billionth time--”

 

You push the other piece of pie onto his face, catching him off guard. You make sure to get it in real good and walk away to your room.

 

Its nightfall by the time Dave comes into your room, a simple but heartfelt sorry on his lips for you.

 

You’re at your desk, heart softening at the manner he used. He sounds genuine and actually sorry for it. A thing you haven’t heard from him prior. Oh man. Why were you angry again? You catch a bit of the pie glazing on his jaw, and it shines from your computer screen.

 

Yeah, that’s why.

 

You aren’t going to forgive him that easy. No one should get off acting like a total douche so quickly, but that’s before he slides his sunglasses down. The same pair of sunglasses you’ve seen everyday ever since you met him and

 

 

Red eyes.

 

Holy shit that’s super cool.

 

He’s looking at you stonily, like he’s putting on a brave face for something that is to come.

 

You can’t look away from him, and your mouth has appeared to have stopped working at the moment. You’re pretty sure it’s open too.

 

“Starin’ at a feller’s privates ain’t the best way to communicate, Egbert.” His accent showed up. It’s happened before when he gets emotion. This is way important, you can conclude. You still stare.

 

The outer edges are the darkest red, at a glance, they could be mistaken for a rusty brown, but with a closer exception, they’re blood. The innings of his eyes are rubies (there’s no other word), crimson gems shining in the soft white light. He’s squinting a little in the faint lighting and you figure that may be a reason for the sunglasses.

 

You realize you haven’t spoken, moved, or breathed for that matter. Dave stiffens all over again, his hands coming up to push on his shades and hide himself away from you again.

 

A hand comes to stop his from putting them on and you blink to find it’s your hand. When did you move from your seat?

 

“Dave, you have _the_ coolest eyes _ever_.” You’re grinning as wide as you possibly can, you can feel the tops of your cheeks nudge against the bottom of your glasses’ frames.

 

He looks stunned at what you said. His emotions spill all over his face without them on. You can see feelings spinning around in his gaze like clothes in a dryer. You guess that saying about eyes being the windows to the soul is true.

 

Dave smiles and.... and you’re just glad your best friend isn’t sad.

 

“Still up for that movie?” you ask.

 

Dave’s smile grows. “Anything but fucking Con Air. I was totes kissin’ ass.”

 

“Hey!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dramatic eye reveal: check.
> 
> Anyways!! Thanks SO much too all of you who commented and left a kudos! And who even bothered to read it at all! Thank you guys! <3333
> 
> Good news and bad news though, folks.
> 
> Bad news, kinda: Chapters will (hopefully) be released every week or 2. This is bad news because I've seen people spit out chapters every other day. 
> 
> Good news is that since story will most likely be 8 chapters long, each chapter will be long. Around 4 to even maybe 8 K long. 
> 
> So your welcome. 
> 
> I'm still a little iffy on how I portray these guys since this I my first long Homestuck fic. But please be gentle if you wanna comment about it. Whenever i get a comment, i get scared shitless if it's a negative one. It's bad for a writer not being able to handle critiques but... if someone only says "this suck lol" and nothing else... i think that's plain being an asshole.
> 
> Just sayin'. 
> 
> Mexican American John is my sin. I love that headcanon.... And I really enjoyed writing Rose in this chapter. I hope it came off as well as it did to me.


	3. (Kinda) Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthdays and kisses (shhhhhh)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap this is long, 22 pages, 9K, on Word. 
> 
> First off, thanks for everyone who read, commented, supported, ect. this fic! I read everyone’s comments and I feel my heart soar with all the positive remarks I get! 
> 
> Special thanks for xphantomhive for being there to listen to my rabbles and agreeing to be my beta (whatever that may consist of, lol). You’re awesome! 
> 
> This is also for all the brokenhearted JohnDave shippers after the recent upd8… You guys know what I mean. 
> 
> Lastly, if you’re weird about awkward kisses between awkward 12/13 year olds, it starts at “After that, it’s your cue….” And ends at “When she peers inside….” 
> 
> Andddd if anyone has any JohnDave songs to recommend, I want to listen!

At the twins’ birthday party, you are so freaking excited to celebrate.

 

13 is a huge number to go on after all.

 

Last year’s party wasn’t bad... Dave and Rose loved it! And all the guests cheered with _ohhs_ and _ahhs_ when you tossed up dozens of cupcakes up in the air so that Dave’s Bro could slice them in half. You were pretty amazed when your Dad didn’t fall to his knees and scream about the cruelty of the world.

 

All he did was smile gently and talk about what pastries were supposed to do to the world; make people happy.

 

All you did was nod and toss another little home-wrecker at Bro’s face. Mom Roxy had really loved that, and seeing her dark lipped laugh had Dad looking happier than ever.

 

And after all the guests had left, the 5 of you had a mini cake battle in the year. Resulting in frosting in horrible places, a bloody nose, five showers, learning Rose had better aim than you thought, and half a month of cleaning the backyard and the back side of the house.

 

This year however, Dad and Mom Roxy just planned the usually thing: party, friends, family, and cake. So much cake.

 

So you know it’s the presents that are going to be the eye-popper.

 

Thing is, you have no idea what it might be. Obvious precautions from Dad and Roxy. They don’t want you ratting to Rose and Dave about whatever it might be.

 

“So, I’m just as oblivious as they are,” you tell Jade through the phone.

 

“Heehe, well geez John! Sounds like things are going great over there.”

 

You’ve been on the phone for a little over 40 minutes. You should probably be getting back and enjoy the rest of the party... but Jade. The girl has been your only friend until recently and she may not be blood, but your bonds with her are just as strong as that of a sister.

 

“Even though they’re made out of suppressed emotions half the time and mysterious coolkid vibes the next, Dave and Rose really like all of this, believe it or not! I don’t think they ever got lots of b-day parties before. I’m thinking they were both too stubborn to ask their parents for one. They’re like donkeys.”

 

“Was it ‘cause of their parents being separated?”

 

Dave lived with Dirk most of the time here in Texas, while Rose stayed with Roxy in New York for most of the school year. Maybe they didn’t want to put pressure on them to get together just to throw them a party.

 

“Maybe. It might be the reason. But anyways, did you get your present? I tried sending it as soon as I could! I’m sorta bummed it didn’t get to you yesterday.”

 

You can practically see your cousin’s grin, her front teeth bulging ovrer her lip. “I actually got it this morning! And oh my gosh, John. I love it! It’s soooo cute! I put it on my bed!”

 

It’s your turn to grin. “Ahhh…the sacred throne! I’m honored!”

 

“Hahaha! Shut up John! Or else the cute knitted bunny is moving to the top of the dresser!” A horrified gasped is ripped from your mouth.

 

“Punish the father, Jade! Not the child!”

 

She’s just about to reply when there’s a soft knock on the door.

 

Moving from your bed, you speak to Jade, “I gotta go Jade. The party needs it’s animal or else nothing is going to happen.”

 

She snorts, replying back something about hanging around with Dave too much and says bye.

 

You open the door and smile widely at Kanaya. She smiles back, her heart-shaped lips curling upward. Soft dark brown hair curls around her cheeks and blends perfectly with the brown sugar color of her skin.

 

“Hello John. Rose wanted to know if it was time for the presents.” You snap you fingers at the words, eyes going to look at the time on your phone. Almost 6. Talking to Jade certainly made time race by.

 

“Yeah! Of course! Where is she right now?”

 

Kanaya smiles, eyes sparkling. “She is currently outside with Dave, debating the practical uses of nail polish while people place bets on who will be first to yell.” You hear the sounds of a smothered giggle as you rummage through your nightstand for the two boxes.

 

Even in midwinter in Texas, the weather is weird. For the last few days, it’s been nothing but chilly as an ice cube, but all of a sudden, the sun creeps out and shines brightly enough to keep the temperature at 70, yet the wind makes it feel like 65.

 

The party was moved outside an hour ago because Bro commented on how stuffy it was getting inside the house with so many people. Then Dad looked like he had a vision of claustrophobic people in his living room. So, that was that. 

 

Trying not to roll your eyes, you say that it would be interesting to see who would raise their voice first. These _are_ the Lalonde-Strides you’re talking about. Shouting doesn’t come naturally to them. Mom Roxy can be loud, but nothing close to screaming at a whim.

 

“Oh I agree whole heartedly.”

 

“Hehee, who’d you bet on?”

 

Suddenly her jade eyes flicker around the room, her hands grip one another at her back. Almost shyly, she says, “Dave.” She has a rather prideful look on her face and you nod but....

 

“You’re kidding! As much as Rose has control, she snaps when someone pushes her buttons! And who can do that better than Dave? Seriously Kanaya?”

 

That starts your own debate with Kanaya, jokingly giving reasons and examples to why and why not who would scream their head off. You offer her a water bottle when you pass by the kitchen, knowing that everything outside is juice or soda. She accepts then goes on to ask what you got Rose and Dave.

 

After you tell her, she nods, impressed if you say so yourself, and both of you stay in the kitchen, getting a last minute cup of fruit. Placing the presents on the counter, you hurry to eat the fruit inside (Dad is weird about plain fruits) but Kanaya wrinkles her fine boned nose at the mess you’re making.

 

“Take your time, John. I’m sure a nothing dramatic will happen in a few minutes.”

 

You talk to her and eat the fruit in the kitchen, glowing with smugness when you got her to laugh at a joke up. That is, until you hear a shrill voice that could make milk cur.

 

You stand up straighten and turn just in time to see Nepeta in a long sleeved dress arm in arm with Terezi with her blue jacket and funky eyeglasses. Her walking stick is in her hand and she twirls it around, cackling in that tone of hers. Karkat is walking behind them, grumpy frown probably placed there by Ms. I Must Put My Tongue On Everything.

 

It can be plainly said that you hate Terezi Pyrope. And not because she’s best female friends with Dave, _your_ best friend. Nope. Well maybe a little bit, but she’s the master at crawling under your skin and nibbling on what’s under, and you like to think that you’re a perfectly reasonable guy.

 

“Hey Nepeta, Karkat!” The greeting is cheery and comfortable. You’ve always liked Nepetea. She may come off as kind of hyper or over the top at times, but that’s only ‘cause she’s so passionate about her... ships. It’s sorta like you and Cage, the master of awesome acting and heroism.

 

“Hiya John!”

 

“Egbert.” You fail to see Karkat’s twitchy hands and pinking face.

 

You pause, instead noticing the blind girl’s twisting grin. “Hi Terzei.” It’s a lot less enthusiastic.

 

“Well, well, well. Hello Johnny-boy. How’s it been? Haven’t seen you all day.” Argghhh. Her voice.....

 

You realize how actually demented that last part was but chose to ignore it as Kanaya says hi. After everyone has greeted each other, you glance at Karkat. He looks embarrassed for some reason, but frankly you think to leave that alone and ask Nepeta what they were doing inside.

 

There’s a bout of screaming from outside but you don’t mind it. Sounded like they were having fun though.

 

“Karkitty,” oh yes the cat puns have begun, “got cold, so Terezi decided she could come in too, so I offered to help her.” Her light green eyes shot at Karkat for a second before returning to look at you and Kanaya.

 

“Yes. A delicate flower such as me can’t stay too long in cold weather.”

 

You force down the laughter.

 

Delicate flower, _your butt_.

 

When all of you were 12, you saw her personally beat down Gamzee when he lost his shit over something. You still have the picture of this skinny girl standing over a fallen, busy haired Gamzee in your brain.

 

There’s a flicker in the air and you catch the sight of a quarter sailing up then back into Terezi’s open palm. Her ginger hair, a lighter hue than Karkat’s, sways around her freckle-less face as she grins widely. “If I can get heads on this, can I go lie down on your couch?”

 

Again, _argh_.

 

“You can _go_ and lay down if you want.” You aren’t going to deny the blind chick a resting spot. No matter how much she probably doesn’t deserve it.

 

The half eaten fruit cup sits in your hand but you no longer have the need to gobble down the syrup covered pears and peaches. You put the fruit in the fridge, and Karkat argues with her to do just that. Nepeta urges him not to blow up.

 

“C’mon Karkles, this is simple insurance. If John here thinks he can just toss me off, I’d have perfectly reasonable backup.” You pretend not to hear that nickname. Karkat obviously doesn’t like it, so why does she have to call him that? Her rude habits have gotten Dave acting like he has no brain in his thick skull.

 

Ah... there’s a headache. You manage a smile even though she can’t see it and say through teeth, “Flip the coin, Terezi.”

 

She giggles and with a flick of her thumb, it flies upward. You stare at it as it almost kisses the ceiling then as it retreats to her hand. She closes the hand at once and flips it over to the back of her other hand.  The red walking stick wobbles a little when she uncovers the coin.

 

“Heads,” Kanaya peers down at it and announces, a refined eyebrow slipping up.

 

“Sorry John, looks like it wasn’t your time.” You think you see her wink under those red tinted lenses.

 

You could care less. Really you care so less that you have no care.

 

“Try not to drool too much on it.”

 

“Gross, John.”

                                                      

The tension in the air is thick. Nepeta is toying with the wool fingerless gloves on her hands, Karkat looks like he swallowed a lemon thinking it was a cherry, however, it is Kanaya that intervenes. “If the three of you will excuse us, I do believe we were wanted outside.”

 

By the time the two of you escape, the rest of the party outside, it looks like the twins are sitting at a table, hair very disheveled and clothing very wrinkled. Rose’s black lipstick is just as smudged at the scruffy content of her equally black pencil skirt and pale purple coat. Dave is no better in his black coat, the neon buttons blue.

 

Everyone else is in the middle of a good laugh.

 

Next to them, Dad is shaking his head, tiny smile on his mouth, fedora in his lap as Mom Roxy hoots and pounds the table with a fist. Bro is standing next to Dad, arms crossed over his broad chest and blowing a huge bubblegum bubble.

 

You and Kanaya glance at each other for a second before making your way towards them. At the sight of the two of you, Rose flushes and groans, head moving away, hands pulling at her headband, while Dave, face scrunched up, hurries to straighten his hair and outfit, face burning red.

 

Kanaya leaps at Rose, her face a coat of worry. Rose borrows deeper in her hands. “What happened?” you question bluntly, looking from each of the adults. The laughter of the rest of the guests bounces in the background.

 

The question restarts Roxy’s laughter and Dad just sighs lightly so you look to Bro’s shaded eyes for a response. He loudly pops his gum and looks down at you.

 

“Lil’ shits were startin’ to disrespect each other and I didn’t want one of them cryin’,” he comments, head pointingly in Dave’s direction. Your best friend’s frown deepens, looks away, and continues to fix his hair, pulling out grass from the blonde tresses. “So, I picked them up and flung them around for some.”

 

Oh my God. Don’t laugh. You’ll look like a douche.

 

Oh who are you kidding?! This is certainly the time to look like a douche.

 

Douche out, John.

 

“Hahhahahahahahah! No- no way! Did an- anyone hahahah ta-take any p-pictures—ahhahah! I need to see hahah this!” You are going to pee your pants for real!

 

“John, you as--” Dave doesn’t finish that thought as someone else came onto the scene to your excitement and to his horror.

 

“I’m guething that would be me then.” You open your eyes and push the tears out of them long enough to see a tall guy around your age come next to you. You catch a look at his glasses and grin up at him. He’s almost a head taller than you. “It’th a video though.”

 

You notice it.

 

In his hand is an iPhone, opened up to the camera roll. You gasp and reach for it, instantly pressing play on a single video, thank Sollux, and focus on the video.

 

In the background, you hear Rose and Dave hissing like snakes but it’s no use getting it from you. Roxy and Kanaya crowd around you. Dad stays where he is and Bro isn’t in the group, but you know he’s standing guard, keeping his kids from strangling you and taking the phone.

 

The video starts out like how you think it would. Both Dave and Rose standing in front of each other, smirk painted on each other’s faces until the conversation shifts from the pros and cons of nail polish to something that sounds odd. Still polish, but odd.

 

Something about whether the color cerulean and how it out look on Dave’s hands…? Whatever the heck that is, your best friend gets snappy.

 

“ _Don’t matter if the person is happy with the color, or the color with the person, bitchy gossips are be a whispering how that shade is messed up and doesn’t go with the croptop of the day,”_ Dave comments, arms crossed. His fingers dig into the sleeve of his coat.

And on it went for several minutes... You have no idea what any of it means.

 

In the video, Rose tilted her a head to the side, a deep calculated smile on her face as Dave is telling her where she can go and who ask for confirmation on being a bitch when Bro jumps into the shot. He easily yanks the kids away from each other, picking up Rose and _throwing her up in the air._ While her screams fades as she goes up. Dave is already starting to run when Dirk grabs him around the collar and repeats the same thing.

 

Dave screams just as loud as Rose did, cracking voice fading at the end due to his direction in the air. As soon as Dave goes up, (how high? You don’t know, but they disappear from the screen) Rose is hurdling down, and Dirk catches her perfectly. She clings to him like a watered down cat, shakes her head so hard, you think she might have gotten whiplash.   

 

Dirk actually fucking smiles, and you think that he’s done, but no. He flings her up again, scream the same as before. And like the same as before, Dave falls back down into his dad’s strong arms. You can hear him croak out in a hushed tone, _“Bro... Bro... No..._ Bro _...”_

 

Holy. Shit.

 

_“Holy thit.”_ It comes from the phone and the lisp tells you that Sollux had very similar feelings about all of this.

 

His dad does the same smile but this time you know the punishment isn’t going to end so soon. Dave is tossed up again and Rose comes down. This is repeated about 2 more times until it’s over.

 

Dirk first sets Rose on the grass gently, tenderly placing her head on the ground, and catches Dave in the same manner and laying him down as he did Rose.

 

They both look green and Dad races to them, Roxy at his heels, asking them if they’re ok. Mom Roxy shakes her head and bends down next to them.

 

Rose sounds constipated. _“Perfect.”_

 

_“Rosy, baby, Mama needs to kick Bro’s ass right?”_

 

The camera pans up to a frowning Dirk, his feet moving slightly awkward.

 

_“I’ma... peachy. Dadbert... get your –face outta my space.”_

 

Dad looks devastated. _“The boy is delusional! He never calls me anything but my name!”_

 

At least not to his face.

 

The rest of the video is an explosion of laughter and the sight of Dave and Rose standing up on fawn legs, moving to the table you first saw them at.

 

“Everything happened in a few minutes,” Kanaya murmurs, taking the words out of your head, but you’re sure you’re the only one to hear any of it.

 

Dad stands up clears his throat. “I think it’s time we cut the cake and open presents.”  You’re probably the only one who groaned when mostly everyone else cheered for the aspect of cake.

 

 

_+_

 

 

Once the torture of swallowing down slices of vanilla (Rose) and chocolate cake (Dave) is finished killing your stomach, the gifts get passed around inside the house.

 

The Lalonde-Strider kids sit on the couch, you besides Dave, Mom Roxy next to you, and Kanaya and Dad next to Rose.

 

Bro is out towards the back, arms crossed again and leaning on the wall. Despite the distance he’s put between him and the twins, there’s a genuine smile on his face.

 

They open their presents one by one (you are pleased to see that Dave barely cracks a smile at Tezeri’s giant sour apple gummy bear), getting a grand sort of things.

 

Money, CDs, DVDs, perfumes, books, posters, signed autographs, headphones, clothes, shoes, food, and a camera and a thick leather bound book.... So that’s what Dad and Mom Roxy’s presents were.

 

Even though the other presents were great, you can see it in their faces that Rose and Dave are in love with the gifts they have just been given.

 

Roxy highfives Dad over your heads and lets out a WOOP of mission accomplished.

 

Rose blankly stares at the book, an unknown language written on the cover along with a thin lined picture of a monster...a monster that strangely looks like the one from her poster. Her purple nails gently brush against the cover, feeling, yet consumed by doing so.

 

The camera is from a great brand name, the kind you’ve seen Dave flip through magazines and eBay for, only to wince at the price. He’s clutching the box tightly, suddenly tearing through the it to see the actual camera.

 

You laugh out loud, half of the guests cheering after Dave as he opens the box and takes out the camera. It’s black and slick and everything you could’ve wanted him to have.

 

“Yo, munchkins! Find my present inside of that,” Bro shouts across the room. The crowd urges them on as Dave and Rose look through both of their presents, each coming upon a slip of paper, orange handwriting scrawled diagonally on it.

 

A BRO FREE DAY COUPON

 

Dad looks super confused, asking Roxy if she put those in. You smile when she shrugs, grinning at Bro then softening the express on her face as Rose and Dave shared smiles. 

 

There’s more laughs at that. Everyone thinks it some kind of cute thing their dad did, yet you think it’s more legitimate than what most people are thinking of. When it’s their turn at Bro’s place, you’re constantly getting calls from Dave and Rose to cure the boredom and suffering they’re undertaking at his sword-worn hand.

 

Dave holds the piece of paper Bro gave him like its gold.

 

The presents were so good. No wonder they wanted to keep it from you, even though you know you’re a great secret keeper and have all the self-control of a trained Buddhist monk. You held back from slipping hints to Dave about his present when he asked—

 

Your present.

 

For _Dave_.

 

And Rose.

 

Where did you leave those things? You get up abruptly, earning you a look from Dave. “Where are you going? Spotlights on me, bud, you need to bask in what little lights touches your ass.”

 

_Why can’t you remember?_

 

The impression on your face has him frowning. “Uh, Egbert? What the heck is wrong with your face? I specifically remember it being not as traumatized looking.”

 

He’s looking a touch worried about you, and while that warms your heart for unknown and startling reasons, you need to think about where you left the presents.

 

You smother your face in your hands to mask your pained moan. Which is a real bad thing to do when you have glasses on.

 

“John?” Dave asks, closer than before.

 

Don’t let him get all bummed out on his birthday!

 

The moment his hand touches the white sleeve of your shirt, you spring up, face contorted into a goofy mask, and yelling “Gotcha!” over the noisy rumbles of the conversations taking place.

 

He jumps back and jaw unhinged, probably wide eyed behind the sunglasses, a split second before pushing your face away with the palm of his hand. “You’re such a spaz, Egderp.”

 

“Oh man, you should’ve seen the look on your face, Dave! Mr.Coolkid got a surprise!”

 

He retaliates, but you’re mentally giving yourself a pat on the back and a slap to the face.

 

Presents, presents, presents.

 

Your stomach makes some gargled whine and you try not to cringe from it. It must’ve been the cake you swallowed down. Couldn’t have been the fruit cup from earlier....

 

In the kitchen. On the counter. Presents.

 

“I- uh. I need to go...” You cut Dave off mid-ramble, leaping off the couch and jerking a finger in a random direction. Not bothering to hear what he has to say, you’re racing to the kitchen and immediately come across the two small boxes next to the sink.

 

Yes!

 

You scuttle around from of the party-goers and grab them. You’re back at the couch in no less than 2 mintues.

 

“Dave! Rose! Happy birthday!” And there the gifts go... At last....

 

Rose smiles at you, thanking you for the box in her lap, and moving to unwrap it.

 

Dave smirks at you. “You didn’t have to go to the trouble for little old me. I am, after all, just your best bro in the universe. There’s a no presents needed agreement in the print, you know.”

 

“Dave, stop talking. Right now. And open the stupid box. Right now.” He does just that.

 

There’s a lot of things you wanna say to him, to the both of them, but you feel too awkward, too shy, to actually open your mouth and tell them what’s thumping along in your head.   

 

“Oh John...” Rose gets to her gift first, pulling out the large ball of purple yarn and the crafted needles. “I love it.” The grin is already tugging at your mouth, taking up most of the room on your face. You move in for a hug and you two hug it out over Dave.

 

Who’s oddly quiet actually. Hmmm…

 

For Dave's present, you decided on a new pair of sunglasses even though it’s obvious how totally  _rad_  you think Dave's eyes are without anything covering them. How red his eyes are surrounded by pretty, blonde lashes--

 

Hm. 

 

You figure that with Dave new mindset on 'becoming his own person' was actually going to happen, you’d help out.

 

So you’ve gotten Dave some Ben Stiller shades. _The_ Ben Stiller shades that cost you 1/3 of the money you’ve been saving since forever.

 

It’s so worth it. 13 is a big number. And mowing all those lawns in the hot as balls Texan heat was also worth seeing Dave's ears turn a cheery red after opening the box. 

 

You beam outwardly, truly looking like the pleased present master himself, while on the inside; your heart is hammering, you think it’s going to burst from some kind of cracked-induced apprehension pumping through it. 

 

Dave looks up at you, face probably unreadable to lots of people; you can make out most of it: shock weaving into his sharpening jaw line, the amazement stitching a bit of his brows together, and of course, the crimson bleeding through the tips of his ears.

 

You can’t make yourself wipe the delight from your sloppy grin.

 

That look on his face alone is worth every dime, blood, sweat, and grandmotherly old women offering you stale cookies in payment. 

 

For a moment, both of you can only stare at each other; each too brimming with emotions to speak until, "Oi! Watch it boys, Texas don’t care ‘bout that fancy new law up north, gays can't marry here. That there’s the devil's workins, that is." 

 

Thank you, Dirk. 

 

The laughter settles over everyone with Dave’s snarky comeback making up most of the reason why. 

 

Its joke, everyone understands that. Yet...

 

Yet.

 

You wish... You think...there might’ve been some inking of truth in that...

 

You spend the rest of the party betting with yourself on how many times you can stare at Dave without him catching you.

 

_+_

 

 

It’s about a week before your own birthday, but you’re not thinking about that.

 

Right now, you are too busy beating Dave’s ass in Mario Kart.

 

“How the hell am I supposed to do anything with Yoshi’s pump rump taking up most of my screen, John?”

 

You laugh, thumbs flashing all over your controller to keep your place in front of him. “Oh I don’t know, Dave. Why don’t you _try_ this time?” The burn is scorching and you know this. Yes.

 

There’s something flying into your line of sight, a stiff sock, and it’s sad to say, you scream like a toddler and flinch, almost dying by falling back into Dave’s pile of…mass. You don’t know what that thing consists of, but you’re sure as hell not going to find out today.

 

You shift as you fall, taking your chances by skimming your head with the bedpost instead.

 

But you’re too concerned with what’s happening on TV to run a hand through your possibly bleeding head for any wounds. A gasp flies from your mouth, eyes seeing Princess Peach taking her spot ahead of you, tossing back a turtle shell as she does so.

 

No way. No fucking way.

 

“Fuck you Dave!” you groan, kicking a foot at his knee, slamming buttons to try to get back your first place status.

 

Dave snorts loudly. Outside the closed door, you can hear the distance sound of Dad and Mom Roxy tending to the garden out in the backyard in the late afternoon light. Rose is probably in her room, conquering dark spirits or something. There’s some faint music coming from the direction of her room.

 

“You forgot to say ‘Uh no Dave, that’s gay, and uh, no homo bro.’ You forfeited the right to say _fuck you_ to any guy the first time you actually said no fucking homo.” His voice went hideously high in his imitation of you, and you personally feel offended. Your voice has changed for God’s sake! Kinda. It’s getting there.

 

Dave’s has though, just as he suddenly caught up to you in height. You still haven’t forgive him for looking you right in the eye and whispering, “You should drink more milk. Squirt.”

 

Argghhhhhhh.

 

However, you choose to ignore it altogether and go with, “You sound like Tavros, Dave. Stop. I feel like I have to punch you in the face now.”

 

He drops a low whistle, leaning back on the side of his bed, hands moving on the controller. His shades, the ones you gave him a couple of months back, rest on his head. In the dim light of the room, you notice how his eyes seem to blaze. Ever since his birthday, those aviators are a definite fixture on his face. Well… most of the time. Whenever you two are alone, he simply slips them on his head.

 

That makes you really happy for some reason. Lots of things he does made you happy for some reason.

 

“I sense some serious anger there, dude. Tavros is in a fucking wheelchair, how can you hate that kid? It’s like trying to hate on a puppy or some shit.”

 

You glare even though he’s focused on the game. Another kick to his leg has him whining and losing his winning spot. Three more laps in this.

 

“I don’t hate him. I like Tavros… It’s just…” You suddenly feel caught up in a wave of emotions. There aren’t any words that can help you sort through them. Especially when the person asking is the cause of most of them.

 

So you just say, “Vriska.”

 

“Spider Bitch? What’s your problem with Spider Bitch? I can beat her up for ya man. No problems there, dude.”

 

Fingers tighten on your controller and you feel kinda sick. “What? No! I like Vriska, Dave!” I think, you add in your mind.

 

Dave stops. He really stops, hands going still, and head frozen in the direction of the Princess Peach’s still figure. It last about a second before he’s off back. “You have the hots for Spider Bitch? Is that why you get pissy around Tav? Those two have a weird thing going on.”

 

You’re quiet for a moment. Vriska is really hot for sure, with tousles of blonde hair, eyes the color of the sea, and ears pierced three times in each. No other girl you know has that many piercings in her ears. She’s defiantly not the kind of girl your Dad hopes you’ll introduce to him one day.

 

But she can make you laugh and forget some of the feelings _someone_ stirs up in your heart.

 

“Don’t call her that,” is all that you end up saying.

 

Her and Tavros do have a weird thing going on, but you really think that’s never going to happen. Tavros is too…him and Vriska’s always talking about how her guy would need to have the balls to make a move on her.

 

An awkward silence falls over the room by then and it’s only broken by the character’s signature cries when something happens and the game’s background sounds.

 

“I don’t think she’s a good match for you, John.” From your spot by his bed post, you turn your head to him, chest expanding and filling up with…hope? What is up with _that_??? “Terezi is always saying how wacko that chick is. Totally nuts, man. More nuts than a heavy handed teenage worker at a _Sonic_ is when he hands you your sundae.”

 

Of fucking course. Terezi. You slide your tongue over your front teeth, listening with a deflated heart, now filled with discontent.

 

“And you didn’t know her back then, but in the fourth grade, the chick brought her fucking pet tarantula for show and tell. Sorry Sollux. Little whatsitname got you pissing your pants? Can’t do shit. It’s show and tell day, bitch.”

 

You nod slowly, passing another lap. “Tell Tezeri to stop gossiping like a hen. Vriska’s cool and if she can’t see that, that’s her loss.” Oops. Blind. Can’t see.

 

Dave frowns, obviously choosing not to remark on your slipup. “Didn’t you hear what I—What’s with you and TZ? Ever since you’ve been introduced, there’s been nothing but bitchin’ from the two of ya. You serious have a hate boner for her and its makin’ me feel uncomfortable, dude.”

 

You gag and follow suit in the frowning department. “Hate boner?”

 

“Ever heard of hate sex?” His brows wiggle like albino worms. It’s a stark contrast to his deadpan facial expression.

 

Sex of any type with that… girl has you tasting bile in the back of your throat. She’s pretty maybe… But that does not excuse how- how- how she just is, ok. You can’t explain the probing needle that is Terezi Pyrope.

 

“Gross, Dave. Sick.”

 

“Hey, the porn makes it look good.”

 

Yoshi barely makes it pass the load of oil in the road and avoids being thrown in off a cliff.

 

“You watch that stuff?” you say it casually; eager to move the topic from Terezi, and grimace a second later at how childish you must sound. He’s 13, of course he does.

 

You might not be 13 yet, but you’ve seen enough of it, amazing, with living in a house with a man like Dad. This might be the reason why you haven’t seen much porn. Yet from what you _have_ seen, it doesn’t look like you’re missing much. The camera work is horrible and the actors and actresses are a shame.

 

You tell him this and it results in his laughing. Usually you love Dave’s laugh, but now it’s plain annoying. Like he’s laughing at something you don’t know.

 

“I’m always a little busy with something else to pay attention.” His hands comes up from the controller (a blue beaded bracelet wrapped around his wrist, the twin to the red on your own wrist, “ironic friendship bracelets”, made that New Years) to make a vague pumping motion.

 

You crash your shoulder into his, laughing and fake gagging. “ _Way_ too much information!” It disturbs you that this conversation isn’t disturbing you more.  

 

Dave pushes right back at you, shoving you out of your odd thoughts. Your characters finish the second lap and the third and last lap starts. “Don’t be such a pansy. So you don’t watch porn ‘cause of the shitty film work and you’ve never jerked off? Are you going to tell me next you’ve never been kissed?”

 

“Pffft! I- I- Pfffffft! W-what--!”  Nice stutter, John.

 

“Fucking knew it. You gotta experiment, Egnerd. It’s how anything gets learned. Listen to Sensei Dave on this.” He says it so surely, you groan. You tell him to shut up but Dave has always had a problem with that. “Not even practiced with all those clown dolls Dadberts has for you? Wasn’t that the point of them— _hey_!” He doesn’t get to finish that embarrassing sentence. You tackle him.

 

You tackle him so hard and so good; Grandpa Harley would weep manly tears of joy over this.

 

“They’re harlequins dolls!” You’re pretty sure you say as a war cry. The controller jumps from your hand, and the one in his goes flying off to the side.

 

Dave struggles but you’ve been around him enough to know a good choke hold. You laugh in triumph and glory. No wonder Bro always beats him up in their strifes—Why are his fingers in your hair—“ _Owww_!” He yanks surprisingly hard and your grip wavers. It’s enough for him to take advantage and all of a sudden, you’re on the floor, the back of your head brushing against carpet. He holds down you down, hips placed perfectly under yours to restrain you, face smirking like he won the Olympics.

 

Your arms reach up to his face, more than happy to switch positions, but he grabs each of your hands and pins them on either side of your face.

 

His face is close. Really close. So close, you can feel the hot puffs of breath on your chin.

 

_Ok…….._

 

You freeze completely, becoming stone under his weight (wow that lankiness turned into lean muscle over the years) and as if sensing it, Dave’s smirking expression slips to become something more sober. His hands drop from your wrists and sits up, looking down at you.

 

The light from the forgotten TV reflections on the side of his face, and you almost laugh ‘cause Dave is such a white boy. You make a show of kinda squinting from the glare of his snowy skin.

 

You’re glasses are smudged and askew on your face. Could he take them off for you? You could be able to see him much clearer that way, even with your horrible vision. You note his shades are gone from his head, probably thrown off to the side. You hope they aren’t damaged, he loves those things.

 

Why are you thinking about his sunglasses? Now isn’t the moment to think about sunglasses.

 

Focus on his eyes. Yes, like that. Now his lips. Good. Take a good long look. Because you are never going to see them up close and personal like this ever again. You want to though, oh how much you want.

 

Oh GOD. STOP THINKING ABOUT YOUR BEST BRO’S LIPS.

 

A moment in your brain passes.

 

Good, carry on.

 

“Why you starin’ at me?”

 

“I think I see your freckles spell ‘loser’,” you utter under your breath. It’s the first thing outta your mouth, and all at once, you feel like you dodged a bullet.

 

Dave rolls his eyes. “Smooth. How the hell do you think you’ll get any girl with a mouth like that?”

 

“Eh. I don’t know. Always thought my hilarious jokes would draw them in.”

 

He scoffs, eyes steady on yours. “You can’t even kiss right…and by that look on your face, I am right as fuck. Girls wanna kiss a guy who can kiss like a god and want to make them squeal and brag to their friends over the phone while drawing hearts around your names.”

 

Here you make a face, relocating your gaze behind his head to look at the ceiling. “Yap yap _yap_. That’s all I’m hearing from your mouth right now. Can I call buuuuullshit? Yes, yes I can. Bullshit.”

 

“I’m trying to help you out, dude.”

 

“Uh,  Dave? I don’t see the ‘help’ with you critiquing my lady skillz. You’re just bragging now.” For a second, you wonder how anyone would react to coming into this room and seeing Dave sitting on top of you. “Next thing you’ll be doing is offering kissing lessons—what’s with that look?!” He’s giving you a pointed look; lips pressed together, a blonde eyebrow pushed up into his hairline.

 

“You wouldn’t be losing anything if I do, bro.” 

 

Your brain stops working. Wait… did that… just say… that…

 

“You want to make out?” you blurt out, really freaking out on the inside now.

 

Dave sighs, putting his hands on his thighs, which are on either side of your hips. In the background, Mario Kart is playing its theme song. “This is all for your benefit, broski. Trust me, I won’t be offering this set of kissable lips to any guy who wasn’t my best bro, John.”

 

You continue to stare, little crackles coming up from your throat. “Plus, it wouldn’t go against your no homo rule. I’m not gay and you ain’t gay, so I don’t see a knick in that logic, but whatever. Do you wanna finish this game? My girl Peach can kick your scaly ass.” He’s shrugging, looking like he’s about to move away. Suddenly you reach out, hand grasping his shirt.

 

“You sure this’ll help?” You want a girlfriend. You want a happy girlfriend. You need that more than you ever thought, and if this will do anything for you, you need to take it...

 

Or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

 

He nods, serious. “After Sensei Dave is done with you, you’ll be fighting girls off with a stick.”

 

You are seriously going to lose your lip virginity to this loser. Damn. But, does this really count? Your chest feels tight. You want this too. Ok, that thought was really homo.

 

You can no longer deny there’s _maybe_ (a lot, a lot a lot, like so much) sexual tension on your part, so maybe this should put an end to it. But you don’t think having no air in your lungs has to do with the sexual tension.

 

“Uh… ok, um. Ok.” You cough, still staring. Dave’s eyes flash and yeah… there’s a hint of red in his face. It highlights his freckles and your hearts feels like a hand reached into your chest and _squeezed_. “Let me up, I’m not being the bottom in this.” You wave a hand between your bodies to emphasize what you mean. “No homo.”

 

“Sure, John, whatever.”

 

He gets off of you as you move away, shifting to put your back against the side of his bed, legs stretched out and hands limp in your lap. Dave crawls over, one knee coming in between your legs. He’s towering over you, but the pounding of your heart is allowing little else to concentrate.

 

“First things first,” He grabs your chin and tips it up to look for an even sight. “Don’t blank out like that. A chick’s going to expect her dude to stare at her like she’s the last bit of beef jerky in the man cave, got it?” His eyes are intense, bearing down into yours, the air in your lungs stills completely. You give a shaky nod. His hands glide from your chin to cup your cheek. You notice right away at the roughness of them. Must be from all that sword holding.

 

“When you touch her face, it’s got to be tender and shit.” You get it. The next time he speaks, it’s low and smooth, “And when you talk to her, make it soft and basically what you’d expect outta an asshole with a heart of gold type to say in a cheap romcom.”

 

After that, it’s your cue for you to push your mouth onto his.

 

His lips are slightly chapped, but so, so warm. It’s light and airy, and you hold yourself back from sighing, closing your eyes as you do so. The pads of his fingertips are gentle. But they disappear for a moment; taking off your glasses and pushing them off to the side before returning to their place.

 

Your hands are still limp in your lap, clutched into fists. You feel awkward with them. “Put your hands in my hair or something,” he murmurs over your mouth.

 

“Was about to do that…” you argue back through the closed lipped kiss. You hands do make their way to his hair, and you finally cure the urge to comb your fingers through the white-blonde locks.

 

“No you weren’t,” he volleys back.

 

“Totally was. Stop being a sore loser.” One of his hands stays on your face as the other climbs up to toy with your hair. You gave Dave an idea. What then Dave? What mcfreakin’ then?

 

“No I’m not,” Dave gripes, and then groans. “Alright.” He moves back. You’re left to blink at him. “You can’t kiss and hold a conversation; it’s stupider than trying to eat in shower. One thing atta time.”

 

You grumble, swallowing dryly, “Yeah, yeah. You’re the coach.” 

 

Lips meet together again, and this time, it easier, just as sweet and great. You melt into it better and it warms your insides. You’ve never been kissed. Correction. You just have and you gave your first to Dave. Which is fine to you. More than fine. Better than fine. It’s what you want.

 

It’s what you… want.

 

You… you…

 

You’ve stopped reacting to the kiss and turn to ice, ceasing everything, pulling back a little. What was that thought? You actually thought… you… You want this. For real. Oh my _God_.

 

Dave follows you back, the tiniest noise coming from his throat. You want to make fun, you totally are despite your inner freakout, when he beats you to talking by saying hoarsely, “You need more practice,” and pressing his lips on yours.

 

The hand on your face slips to your jaw, drawing slow circles on it, and you whimper this time. “Make it feel good…” You hum in reply, lost in the actions. Something wants more (just a little more) and you open your mouth timidly, unsure, but seeing enough movies, you get an idea of what to do. Your tongue gently touches his closed lips. He doesn’t respond right away, and a dread awakes in you, telling you messed up badly a slip second right before Dave opens up and meets you half way.

 

You give Dave your third, fourth, sixth… you lose count after all the kisses.

 

Well now it’s more like making out. And the first thing you learn is that it’s kinda hard.

 

It’s hard keeping your breathing even and tilting your head just right so that your noses don’t smash into each other. Moving your tongues to explore each other’s mouths is the easiest part, however. Yours glides over teeth and gums, lips moving along to get the right touches. You mostly mimic his movements but since he isn’t adding in any extra commentary, it’s good. So good.

 

He tastes like the apple pie Roxy bought from McDonalds that morning. You suddenly love apples. You wonder how you taste. You were eating some gushers earlier so maybe…? He’s not gagging so it’s good sign.

 

“Fuck!” Spoke too soon. “Watch the teeth, John! I’m not one of your fruit gushers. I know I’m man candy but damn.”  Dave scowls after you nibble on his bottom lip little too hard. You don’t know if you can blame it on your lack of experience or overbite.

 

You roll your eyes, and then you dip back together. It’s better this time. Less teeth is better, ok.

 

You continue to play with his hair, enjoying the texture of softness they leave on your hands.

 

That’s about when you realize it.

 

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_ holyfuckingshit _._

 

You have a boner.

 

It happens a lot more lately. A freaking gust of wind in the right direction can leave you tugging down your shirt in an attempt to hide it. You are suddenly very grateful for the amount of space between your hips and his. Your friend down under would _totally_ bring up some questions. The lack of light should hopefully cover your problem, but never mind that. Please try to forget the boner you have for Dave.

 

Dave. Dave who is kissing you with way too much zeal. Seriously, is all that tongue totally needed?

 

You swap enough spit, mostly his, to clone a mixture of the two of you. He pushes up against your lips, tilting your head up a little, and your hands finally fall from his head to his back, grabbing fistfuls of his black shirt. He moans back into your mouth…

 

Wow… Your heartbeat increases by a thousand. You were not expecting that. You try to forget the amount of tongue you’re sinking in to center on the warmth still living on your insides.

 

Dave…

 

You think… you might… lo— Can’t breathe. Yeah, you can’t breathe.

 

You start to tug on his back, but holy cow. Yeah, now it’s a little like being attacked by an overexcited puppy. He’s too focused on anything to feel your pounding apparently, because he doesn’t let up. He’s super into this.

 

You make a noise but nothing. Just more tongue. It isn’t until you rip out his hair with your hands that he backs off (just in your line of vision, thankfully) with a whiny, “What?”

 

You’re about to tell him the what, but… You stare as does he.

 

Everything about him is so bright in the darkening room (when did it get dark?). From his messy blonde hair, to the flow of blood circling under his skin, to his eyes, pupils blown wide, blocking out the red, and to his red, swollen mouth. The saliva from your kissing smeared all over his lips, and chin… It shines from the TV’s light.

 

You must have a similar appearance because his now black eyes watch you in related fascination.

 

You feel a line of drool slide down the corner of your mouth and you make a face: lips scrunched up, nose wrinkling, and eyes narrowing under the fold of your eyebrows. Dave catches sight of the face and laughs. You wipe the drool with the shoulder of your shirt.

 

“Calm down with the tongue, Dave. I think I was drowning there for a sec.”

 

That shuts him up. “Hush. You can’t talk like that to the kissing master.”

 

“You’re so full of it.”

 

“Heh.”

 

He kisses you again, less tongue this time, and you try to soak in every passing second. Your hands can feel right though the back of his shirt, feeling his heartbeat. It’s racing, like yours. Dave smiles through the kiss and you resist laughing.

 

But then it’s over too soon.

 

“Dave!” It’s faint.

 

 

“Dave!” Closer.

 

No, just a little longer. Please. You cling to him and kiss him harder. You forgot this was all practice, experimenting, a bro being helpful to get the girl. But you just want him… Why are you so corny?

 

“John!”

 

He holds you tighter for some reason, and your lips become more desperate because you know, after this, after this one moment, it’s over.

 

You kiss and kiss and kiss until Roxy is two steps outside the door.

 

When she peers inside the bedroom, she finds Dave lying on his stomach, your knee pressed on the small part of his back, twisting his arm behind his back. You’re laughing evilly while Dave grunts and is on a mile long rant about you cheating.

 

He has his shades back on and so do you with your glasses. Everything is as it should be.

 

“Heya guys.” She flips the light on and you and Dave groan, he louder than you. “Sorry little vamps, but you,” she points to Dave, “need to go and help me water some plants. And you,” she points a finger at you. “Dad wants to talk about those piano lessons with Dr. S.”

 

Dave complains, you complain, but Roxy leaves with a wink and a smile and the two of you still, then part. You help Dave up and for a minute, you don’t know what to say. Your blood is still pumping through your ears and you’re half hard.

 

Turns out, Dave knows what he has to say. “Bros, right?” He’s smiling idly, like nothing really happened.

 

The smile on your face hurts badly, like someone carved it in. “Of course bros! No homo! Duh!” It really hurts. So much.

 

He comes in for a fist bump and you give it to him, smile transforming into a toothy grin. You’re going to be sick. “What are bros for if they can’t mack on each other’s faces, right?” you say it easily and start to laugh, walking out behind him.

 

 

_+_

 

 

Nothing and everything happened, and it’s just as sounds.

 

It meant nothing to him. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

 

The days pass and its nothing. Neither of you ever mention it. It never happens again, it practically didn’t happen. Everything goes back to how it always is.

 

You don’t cry. You laugh and grin and make jokes and prank. Because it’s nothing.

 

 

And as you huddle under the sheets in bed, weeks after your birthday, you clutch the rabbit he gave you. It’s old and worn, but it’s soft and you press it to your cheek. That’s when you cry, little bubbles forming quiet sobs in your throat.

 

It’s everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no… I made myself sad… Every time I read that last part, I feel really bad for my baby… yeah… but it’ll get even better from here *sarcasm*. Bright side, I think my John is better. Thoughts????
> 
> Yes, I like John and Terezi black. Yes, its weird, but I find it kinda crack-ish. I also enjoy writing Dirk’s dialogue more than I should. He's a butt.
> 
> Real stupid, but I had a nightmare someone flamed me really bad on this and I woke up and checked the comments just to make sure…. Nothing. I’m a nervous little thing.
> 
> And if I may say a ***SPOLIER***… look away, so I can say it… ok. 
> 
> I think red DaveKat was pretty much announced canon on the 7th of this month(July), and damn. I actually cried some when I found out on tumblr. It really hurt. JohnDave is my OTP, and don’t get me wrong, I know the chances of it becoming a endgame ship is slim to none, but I really don’t like davekat and I’d rather have no one ending up together. 
> 
> But don’t let those tears block your eyes, my dearest readers; Hussie sinks all ships that aren’t Rosemary. Let the Davekat shippers have their moment in the spotlight. Chain that angry beast and wait for our moment. That sounded creepy but basically, yeah. 
> 
> **SPOLIER OVER**
> 
> Ok, anyways, to finish this longass A/N, I think this will be the last chapter I’ll be posting for a while… Maybe I’ll be back with in 3…4 weeks? I’m really sorry for leaving it like this! Crap I didn’t even think of that until now. Yikes… I’ll be posting normally as I can after that! I really want to finish this before school starts again in late August. So if I have to write faster for that, I will! But I’ll be writing from where I am, so chapters will hopefully get done! 
> 
> I do have a tumblr, vocaloidsweetie@tumblr! I’m usually on there so feel free to say hi! Thanks again, and see you soon! <3

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, Mom Roxy and Dirk had thing, never actually got married, but thought the easiest thing would be giving their children the surname, Lalonde-Strider. After Roxy gets married to Dad, she becomes Mrs. Egbert, but both Dave and Rose chose to keep their original last name. Cause Egbert is too nerdy for them or something.
> 
> There's some background. 
> 
> First work for my OTP! This idea has been stuck in my head for a while and Im super glad i was able to do it! I hope everyone is IC and if not, please please tell me. I'm super nervous but hoping for the best! Leave and comments or questions for me and I would love if you would leave a bookmark! Hahaha! "Second POV is weird", says the girl who never wrote in it before.
> 
> BUT LEAVE ME KUDOS. I LOVE GETTING THOSE. AND COMMENTS. BUT KUDOS KEEP MY STUBBY FINGERS TYPYING:)


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